


Prayer

by is_this_you_manning_up_sammy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Mentions of Blood, Minor Character Death, mentions of torture, set somewhere in season 9 or 10, she's unnamed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 12:19:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12432708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/is_this_you_manning_up_sammy/pseuds/is_this_you_manning_up_sammy
Summary: Sometimes in hunting you can’t save everyone and it can damage your faith in anything.





	Prayer

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote and posted this a year ago on Tumblr (under the same account name). All mistakes are mine and to this day I don't know what inspired me to write this. It's all sadness.

Dean drove with the windows down to blow out the horrible, overwhelming copper smell of blood. Sam sat in front of you in silence. Every once in awhile Dean would turn his head slightly to look at you, and Sam through the side mirror. They knew you were hurt, feeling guilty and responsible for letting this death of an innocent happen. There was blood everywhere; the wind would hardly help.

It all started way too fast, and finished torturingly slow. Literally. She was just a girl. She must have at least turned nineteen, barely figuring out how to be an adult and be on her own. She was supposed to be under your protection and watch until those demons, rebellious ones still fighting for Abaddon’s infamous cause, took her after knocking you out. The boys weren’t there to help, but they were the ones to find you on the ground with a bloody temple. The smell of sulfur stenched the room. Those demons had searched for her, and it didn’t make sense why. She had probably seen or heard something she wasn’t supposed to. This was the fast part.

The three of you had searched for two days without sleep. No time was to be wasted. You looked everywhere in and out of town for any clues. It was almost as if she had been a figment of your imagination, and she didn’t exist. You waited while searching, just for those demons to fuck up their plans and leave a clue behind. And they did on that third day in the morning. A single piece of paper with scribbles on it, and you found the place, barging in guns blazing to get to her. When the dust settled, it had been too late. This was the slow part.

They had tortured her endlessly to the point where you couldn’t recognize her face under all that blood. She was shackled and cut up, her clothes in ribbons and drenched. Her blonde hair was knotted and stained. They hadn’t let her go quick, but instead took their time to hurt to figure out what she knew. She barely knew what she was going to major in at college.

You took her down from the chains slowly, double checking for a pulse. You cradled her heavy body in your arms, tears pricked your eyes and her blood stained your clothes.

“She’s already in heaven,” Castiel had said after you cried out to him. “She’s confused, but she thanks you for trying to protect her.”

You looked outside to the blurry pines and wildflowers by the road, resting your head on your hands as you leaned on the window. The bloody smell was too much.

“Stop the car, I think I’m gonna be sick,” you said, covering your face with your hand.

Dean stopped quickly, pulling up to the side where the view was open. You ran to the open end, gasping for fresher air. The trees were cleared out on this patch of small land, letting you see the mountainside miles away across a drop. You didn’t see Castiel, the angel, show up beside the car while Sam and Dean stepped out too.

Cas stopped Dean by the shoulders when he stepped toward you and shook his head. “She needs space. Let her breathe for a few minutes,” he suggested, looking back at you. Sam and Dean listened to Cas’ words, watching you sit on the ground of patchy grass.

“How do you know her?” Dean asked the angel beside him. “We just met her a week ago, but you talk to her as if you’ve been long friends.”

“All the angels in the garrison know who she is,” Cas answered, as if that line was a tell all. “I can hear her prayers right now… something she hasn’t done since she was young.” Cas’ eyes softened, but his face was etched with worry.

“All the angels can hear her right now?” Sam questioned, his brows furrowed.

“Every angel used to be inclined to listen to (Y/N). When she was young, she was brought up faithfully, praying every night before she went to sleep. They were always sweet and thoughtful for others’ wellbeing, or asking for forgiveness when she lied about who broke mother’s vase,” Cas smiled softly, looking up to the clear, sunny sky.

“What happened? What made her stop?” Dean inquired next, leaning back on Baby.

“Hunting. Soon as her family brought her into the life, the prayers became pleas. Prayers to protect her parents and the people they saved. Eventually, little by little, her faithful entreats dwindled to a stop,” Cas replied. Cas looked down to the ground, feeling the cool mountain air flow through. “The angels would always want to intervene and protect her as much as they could, but our Father wouldn’t allow it.”

“But why? There’s a limit to divine intervention?” Sam scoffed.

Cas simply nodded. “Her prayers are one of a kind, we don’t know why.”

“She didn’t even freak out when you told her you were an angel. Why’s that?” Dean asked now, never taking his eyes off of your form. You sat with your legs crossed, hands on your lap, eyes closed, head tilting up to the sky, and hair blowing in the wind wildly.

“She’s always believed in us.”


End file.
